The Graves of the Guilty (Hope Street Church Mysteries Book 3) (26 page)

“Felicia Hawkins,” Cooper spoke to the black-and-white image of the former secretary. “You might just be the answer to our prayers.”

17

Nathan couldn’t join Cooper at the River City Auto Auction Saturday morning because he’d promised to spend the better part of the day doing odd jobs for his younger sister. After that, he was going to help Quinton, Gloria, and Jake install the new computers at the End East elementary school and assist the school librarian repairing damaged books. Nathan was excited to see the elderly woman’s face when Quinton presented her with a large check. The three thousand dollars Cooper and Edward had won at the pool tournament and the donations from Hope Street had grown into nearly eight thousand dollars. Not only would the students would receive healthy snacks each day but also a fresh supply of books and computers. Things were looking up for the East End school.

While her friends were busy performing good deeds, Cooper drove to the complex where the auto auction was held. Assuming she’d be spending a good portion of time outdoors, she’d bundled up in her warmest parka and her fleece turquoise hat and scarf. She consulted her map and followed the directions she’d found on River City Auto Auction’s website. It took nearly an hour to reach her destination—a former airplane hangar.

The website stipulated that the auction started promptly at ten o’clock, but buyers could preview the cars Friday evening and Saturday morning before the sale began. A complete list of cars to be sold in that Saturday’s auction was also available online and Cooper had enjoyed reviewing the photographs and histories of several classic cars.

“Don’t get nervous,” she told her beloved truck as she parked. “I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

Outside the spacious building, hundreds of people were walking alongside a line of forward-facing cars. As Cooper moved closer, a man wearing a red jacket hopped into a Toyota Camry located just outside the building’s garage. He started up the engine, drove it inside, and then slid into the driver’s seat of the next car in line—a purple PT Cruiser.

Clusters of men stood around chatting and gesturing at cars. Some were reviewing their printouts containing the vehicle history, while others were preoccupied making notations, peering under hoods, inspecting paint jobs, or sitting behind the wheel. Cooper couldn’t recall a time when she had seen so many men looking so boyishly cheerful. With the roar of engines, the scent of gasoline and motor oil in the air, and a row of cars and trucks stretching for as far as the eye could see, the males and a scattering of females were in their element.

“You need help, young lady?” an older man wearing a red River City Auto Auction jacket asked pleasantly.

“I’m looking for Felicia Hawkins,” Cooper said.

The man appeared quizzical, but then he smiled. “Oh! We call her Fizzy! She’s just as bubbly as a soda pop. I forget that her mama christened her something else.” He gestured at the long counter visible through the open garage door. “She’s back there, helping the buyers collect their tags and such. She’s made us so organized we can sell twice as many cars per sale as we used to.”

Cooper was surprised to hear that the sour woman she’d met back in January had changed so much that she was now referred to as “Fizzy” because of her perky personality. Still, it was wonderful to realize that unhappy people were capable of change if given the opportunity to do so.

“Thank you,” Cooper told the helpful gentleman, and he nodded and turned away to show a man in his early twenties the fancy chrome rims on an Escalade.

Felicia was in the middle of a conversation with a customer wearing a bright yellow sticker on his coat. The number fifty-seven was neatly printed on the sticker and Cooper inferred that it was his bidder number. A glance around the room confirmed this theory.

“If you need to register, you’re at the wrong counter,” a middle-aged man kindly offered. “You look like you’d be a great match for the five-series up next.” He pointed at the silver BMW sedan in front of them. “But you’d better hurry! Merv sells a car about every sixty seconds.”

“Wow.” Cooper was impressed. She listened, fascinated, as the auctioneer called out prices in increments of five hundred dollars and then one hundred as the bidding slowed. Men waved hands, baseball hats, coffee cups, and newspapers to indicate their bid and several teenage boys shouted as they kept track of the bids. Suddenly, Merv banged his gavel and the Jeep Liberty was driven out through the garage door on the opposite end of the building.

As Merv reviewed the assets of the silver BMW, Cooper felt a hand on her shoulder. She swung around, expecting to see Felicia standing before her, but her expectant smile fell upon Edward Crosby.

“Hello,” she said, feeling suddenly shy in his presence.

He dipped his head to acknowledge the greeting, but did not return her smile. “You turn up in some oddball places. Are you buying or selling?”

Cooper put a hand over her heart. “I could never part with my truck. Actually, I’m here to see that woman behind the counter.” She jerked her thumb at Felicia. “What about you? Is your taxi cab service expanding?”

 “Nah. I’m selling the bike. The cold weather’s put a serious crimp in cab fares and we’re not making as many deliveries at the furniture store, either. Less tips all around.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I was freezing my tail off on that crotch rocket, anyway.”

“I’m sorry.” Cooper couldn’t help but remember how it felt to speed down the dark roads on the red-and-chrome Indian Chief with her arms wrapped around Edward as the wind whipped the ends of her hair and her blood surged through her body. She’d always felt so alive when Edward was near. It was as if his very presence heightened her senses.

A tinge of pink crept up her neck and she looked away from Edward’s piercing gray eyes and tried to focus on the car being sold.

“Are you friends with that woman?” Edward asked. “She go to your church or something?”

“No.” Cooper quickly explained how she’d met Felicia during a service call and hadn’t thought of her again until she’d come across the former administrative assistant’s photograph in the newspaper. “I didn’t even call her first, but I’m hoping she’ll tell me if the car titles I have in this file are genuine.”

“Yeah?” Edward’s glance traveled over the line of cars. “Where’d you get them?”

“From a woman who worked as the title clerk at Love Motors. She kept them hidden at her house and I’m trying to figure out why.”

Edward was just about to speak when Cooper felt someone touch her on the elbow. It was Felicia.

“I’ve been meaning to call you!” she exclaimed after giving Cooper a brief hug. “I owe you a belated thanks. If you hadn’t dragged me out to dinner that night, I’d never have had the courage to change careers.” She smiled as she gazed around the facility. “I love my job now! It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted to do. I come to work every day with a goofy smile on my face and I don’t have to kowtow to another CEO for the rest of my life.”

Cooper turned to Edward in order to introduce him to Felicia, but he’d disappeared into the crowd of men.

“Are you car shopping?” Felicia asked.

“Actually, I came to see you. I need a favor.”

Felicia seemed delighted to have the opportunity to help. “Come on back to my office. One of the girls can take over for me.”

Cooper followed Felicia down a hallway and into the third office on the right. It was a small room, with only enough space for a desk, a file cabinet, a small bookcase, and a pair of red leather chairs for visitors.

“Should I call you Fizzy now?” Cooper indicated the business card holder on the desktop.

Felicia laughed. “It certainly sounds less stuffy. I
feel
like a Fizzy now, too. But enough about me, what can I do for you?”

Removing Maria’s file folder from her canvas tote bag, Cooper passed it to Felicia. “This might seem like a strange question, but could these titles be forgeries?”

If Felicia was surprised by the question, she didn’t let it show. She picked up one title after another, touching the paper, examining the blue, lacelike border, and holding each document up to the light in order to observe the watermark. “They look legit to me. Trust me, these are very difficult to forge.”

Cooper sighed. “Look, I can’t tell you why I’m asking about these titles, but they may be the key to solving a serious crime. Is there
anything
about them that strikes you as unusual?”

As Felicia focused on the titles, Cooper cast her eyes around the tidy office. Felicia’s shelves were filled with books and manuals on auto parts, appraisal and value guides, and back issues of
Car and Driver
and
Road and Track.
A calendar of classic cars was pinned to the bulletin board above her computer and a row of framed letters from grateful customers covered the wall behind the desk. It seemed as though Felicia had quickly made a home at River City Auto Auction. Cooper smiled. She was pleased that the risk the older woman had taken by changing careers had paid off. In fact, she looked and acted ten years younger than when they’d met at the Bank of Richmond offices.

“The thing that strikes me most is that only two of these cars have liens.” Felicia pointed to the first papers on the pile. “None of these are inexpensive vehicles, yet all these customers were able to pay cash on the spot?” She whistled. “I’d like a few of them to buy from us!”

“Who fills out the information listed on the titles?” Cooper asked.

“The title clerk at the dealership fills in the information, but the title itself is printed at the DMV. They’re the only ones who can print titles.”

So much for my theory that these titles are forgeries.
Cooper felt discouraged.

Shuffling the titles, Felicia looked thoughtful. “Maybe there’s a logical reason why most of these cars are lien-free, but it seems as though these customers are family members who just happen to be able to afford a fifty-thousand-dollar car. See? This Caddy and this Suburban were both sold to the Williamses.”

“I didn’t notice the name repetition,” Cooper admitted. Felicia laid out the titles across her desk. “The Williamses have different addresses, so it could just be a coincidence, but then look at these two. Ryan and Kathleen Sears share a residence and they each bought new cars within two weeks of one another. And the Picklers? Two vehicles for them within four weeks. Something fishy here. Do you have any idea where these cars are now?” she asked.

“No. I’d have to get someone at Love Motors to look that up for me.”

Felicia returned the folder to her. “That should be a piece of cake. You’ve got the VIN numbers printed right on the title, so their title clerk or finance manager can pull up the car history for you, if they’re willing to do so.” She stood, frowning. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you more, but it’s unethical for me to look up that kind of information without the owner’s consent.”

“Oh, I’d never ask you to do that,” Cooper assured her with a smile. “And it was worth it to come down here and see you in your element. Fizzy.”

Felicia handed Cooper a business card. “I’d better get out front and start issuing bills of sale, tags, and promises of title. Please let me know when you’d be free to go out to dinner. This time, it’ll be my treat.”

Cooper thanked her again and headed back outside. As she walked past the groups of animated men, she couldn’t stop herself from looking for Edward. She also noticed that although there were cars, trucks, and SUVs lined up for sale, there didn’t appear to be a single motorcycle in the line.

Did Edward lie to me?
she wondered. Brushing aside all thoughts of her former temptation, she unlocked her truck and, after settling inside, quickly dialed Ashley’s number.

“Ashley, it’s me,” she spoke to the answering machine. “I need Lincoln to meet me at the dealership. I have to ask Alek for help and what we need to do might require his permission. And Ashley, I think some kind of scam has been going on at Love Motors. I’m going to head over there right after I grab a bite to eat. Please call me back as soon as you get this message.”

Cooper fought her way around the Short Pump Mall traffic. She usually went out of her way to avoid the entire stretch during the weekend, but she had a craving for a grilled cheese sandwich on rye, a bag of crisp potato chips, and a few dill pickles from Jason’s Deli, so she sat through endless traffic lights until she finally found a parking space toward the very back of the Dillard’s parking lot.

During lunch, she kept her cell phone on the table in case Ashley returned her call. As she chewed the perfectly toasted cheddar cheese sandwich, she jotted down the questions she’d need to ask Alek Jones or whoever else might be available from the Love Motors finance department.

The dealership was mere minutes from Jason’s Deli, so Cooper called Ashley one more time before getting back in the truck.

“I’ll just have to see if they’ll work with me without Lincoln’s blessing,” Cooper declared firmly.

However, as she turned into the dealership, she spotted her sister’s Lexus in one of the visitor parking spaces. Cooper opted for a less prominent spot, being that she wasn’t a customer. As she gathered her notebook and purse, she cast a brief glance out the windshield at the sky. It had darkened ominously since she’d left the auto auction and it looked like Richmond was about to receive more freezing rain. In fact, the instrument gauge on Cooper’s dash showed that the temperature had dropped over the last hour, falling from forty-four degrees to thirty-four.

“I can’t wait for spring.” Cooper held her coat tight at the neck, grabbed her purse, and hurried inside the dealership. Just as she opened the side door, a few needle-sharp raindrops fell onto the pavement.

The dealership was quiet. Cooper knew that the service department closed at noon, and the three salesmen seated at desks around the perimeter of the showroom were languishing. A bored receptionist sat at an elevated desk near the front door, sipping coffee from a Love Motors mug as she studied the pages of
People.